Fanfiction The Damphir and the Claymore

[Yun Lee]

(Written by Ringmaster and @Takumi .)

Part One

The aftermath of the Nightmare Ark. All had gone well, despite losses and a majority of the party had been saved. The culprit behind it, destroyed when the Space Hulk was detonated and frankly, Lucifer was exhausted.

In the locker room, he closed his eyes as he let the water run over him, the cold freezing liquid like a cathartic release for the stress he'd been under. A minute later, he was done and dried. Walking out, wrapped in the towel he moved to his locker and fumbled with the keys, before they dropped from his hand.

He stared.

And five minutes later, the screeching sound of metal torn would echo in the room as Lucifer ripped off his locker door.

Clare had let herself be patched up, though did little to protest such treatment since her injuries had been rather minor for the most part. She had walked through the halls after they had returned. She had contemplated at least ridding herself of the smell of blood then and sighed, gray eyes tiredly staring ahead. Any she passed would get a cold, blank stare in response as a sign that she didn't wish to talk currently. Though as she was about to pass the area where the locker rooms were her keen ears picked up the sound of metal tearing and gave a slight tilt of her head, reaching for her blade before sniffing the air to see if she could catch a familiar scent just in case she was jumping to conclusions much too soon.

There was a fresh scent of blood....It happened sometimes. With aliens, cyborgs and all sorts of other strange beings, the locker rooms were for the most part, co-ed. With personal showers and bathrooms for those who wished to avoid such places. Lucifer for his part, usually used the locker rooms as they were closest to the outdoor facilities.

Not that he was thinking of that now, as he stared dully at his cut finger. A bigger gash then usual, from his heavy-handed method and sighing out at its sluggish healing, he made a mental note to get some nourishment later.

For now, he'd have to just bear it as he began the slow, steady process of wrapping it up.

Clare released the grip on her sword handle and made her way into the locker rooms, feet giving a soft clank as she walked in, eyes scanning the room as she did so. She may as well use the locker room while she was in there, but after seeing who was making all that noise. If she had to guess, it could only be one man that she met while here.

"Lucifer." she spoke calmly as she stopped once he was in her line of sight.

He paused mid-wrap, turning slightly to look at her. The lights in the room were bright and chipper. Which meant she could see every detail of him exposed, from the weariness in his eyes to the body exposed. A towel wrapped around his lower part protected his modesty, leaving everything else exposed. He was muscular, but not in the way of certain members- If anything, his body was more akin to a swimmer with every contour sculpted by the owners will and destined image. He was not a strength-reliant fighter....If he was, he'd consider himself in trouble.

As his work required all sorts of situations, so did he shape his body with a rigorous effort to do the job, he did best. A few scars criss-crossed his body, including one across the chest and another on his right arm...Both from a bladed weapon. Around his heart area, the puckered mark from a healed bullet wound told another story. Perhaps self-conscious before her eyes, Lucifer looked away. An old man, in a young mans body.

"....There was an accident. Didn't heal."

He waved his bandaged hand vaguely, a dark red spot slowly growing larger. He ignored it.

"Did you want to clean up?"

"Yes." she said bluntly. She wasn't at all bothered seeing him that way, and didn't show much of a reaction. Though when her eyes landed on his current injury.

"Is your ability to regenerate just not working?" she asked, glancing at the locker he had been trying to open moments before then to his injury yet again. Putting the pieces together.

He shook his head.

"Running low on power. Don't mind me, its a small wound and I was....Impatient."

He glanced her over and briefly, concern won over weariness. Bluntly, he spoke.

"You look like crap too. Rough debriefing before they let you go?"

"Yes, and before that was being roughly pulled through vents." she replied. There was probably a half-hearted attempt at a joke there even though that really did happen.

"Hm. Even small wounds can inflict great pain." she said after a moment or two of silence.

He took his time to look at her, thinking back to before. Finally, he said quietly.

"You showed great courage. And its because of you, Dr. Connors has returned to us. You should be proud, not many new recruits are thrust into such situations but you performed well above expectations."

He'd have risen, but the towel. So he simply sat, feeling slightly awkward before he cleared his throat and gestured to the showers direction.

"Er....If you wish to clean. If you don't have anything here to dry yourself or what have you, I'll fetch it. I need to put myself on report anyway for damaging property."

"That would be appreciated." Clare nodded before taking off her armor and setting it aside before making her way towards the showers. She paid no mind to his seemingly awkward nature and remained unaffected.

He headed off and changed. Back to a clean version of his nominal priests outfit. The collar went on last, a little ritual as he stared in the mirror at his reflection. He was still a priest, technically...It wasn't like an organization he could leave with a pension. He was an Executor and a priest for life, even if he tried to move away from such. He shook his head slowly, running a hand through his hair as he sighed out.

He then moved off to grab a towel, some sweat pants and a t-shirt for Clare before returning and placing it on the side.

And then he made the mistake of looking up.

"......."

It had been....How long? Five years? Five years, since he had taken a woman to bed or even had a friendly cup of coffee. It wasn't something he really thought about and after Yomi and Isabelle....Well, he lost interest.

Clare was a muscular woman, yet still feminine. Like the Amazon's of Greece mythology. There was a quiet dignity to her nudity, as though she was genderless and perhaps for all he knew, she considered herself that. A pure warrior, with no other purpose. He found himself tracing the ripples in her back, the way the water washed over her....And when he caught himself, he slapped himself mentally.

What a thing to do. Ogling as though you'd never seen a woman showering before. This was not the time, nor the place to recognize that yes, you had a libido. She was better then that.

She deserved better.

Call it a hunch as he put her items down where she could grab them after and went to splash his face with cold water. Afterwards, in a slightly distracted tone he spoke.

"Half claymore....Are there any side effects?"

Was she like him?

"In a way, yes." she said, then paused, listening to the sound of the water beat down on her for a moment before continuing.

"When a Claymore lets their Yoma half take over, they shall become Awakened beings. There are those who can control it and revert back...but there are also those who cannot." she replied. After she deemed herself clean, she stopped the water and grabbed a towel to wrap around her before stepping out. Once she faced Lucifer something that was not mentioned would be made rather clear though most of it was covered now.

It was a large incision, from her neck down with rather slightly crude stitching in place.

"....Like the Lycan of my world. Or the Loup-Garou."

He said, recognizing the symptom. Worlds may change, but some things remain the same and he turned to face her. Same expression, same Clare.

Except with the aforementioned scar.

He hesitated before he shared himself as he spoke.

"I....I'm a Damphir. It wasn't till years later that I learned what sort. There are few 'true' vampires like my bloodline- Everything has degenerated and evolved to numerous types. Before, I could walk in the sunlight and enjoy certain pleasures...Now? The more I use it, the more my humanity fades. And then someday, I'm going to look into a mirror and find I have no reflection."

He threw a wry smile.

"It means I'm half monster that requires blood to survive. Sentient is best, animal does in a pinch. But for my power to be fully used....Sentient is best."

He looked with empathy at her stitches.

"....There are doctors here. Have you seen them yet about that?"

Clare listened, and could slightly relate. Grabbing the clothes he had gotten for her while placing her own neatly folded ones aside she would move to one of the stalls to change, most likely to save him the embarrassment.

"I haven't seen the doctors for it. It will never heal, those who make us Claymore have tried to use less crude ways to do these stitchings with others, but found that there was no use. If the wound opens, I could heal it but I risk the chance of becoming awakened if I am not careful." she replied, one hand brushing her stomach where she had been impaled before.

Once finished she left the stall, towel hanging off her shoulders. These clothes were comfortable, but she preferred the other more familiar ones.

"Perhaps, after my clothes are washed and in better condition and you get some rest we can spar?" she suggested thoughtfully.

"In the morning Clare...Or later. Way things went, I believe we both deserve to sleep like the dead."

He glanced at her armor to the side and added.

"You can put that in one of the lockers. No ones going to mess with it."

As she stepped out, he found himself staring again at the fairly odd, if pleasing sight of Clare in civilian wear. It made her look completely different from what he was used to in the short time he knew and led her, before he finally shook his head to himself inwardly. Turning away to leave, he paused.

"Clare?"

If she paused, she'd see Lucifer standing at the doorway, back to her before speaking.

"You did very well in the field. Get some rest."

And with as much noise as a passing shadow, he left.​

 

[Yun Lee]

Part Two

The morning hour at the Torch was loud and busy as usual. In her dorm, Clare would be subjected to the questions of her fellow recruits, some working to enter SWORD, others for WAND or similar. Mostly they wanted to know what happened and perhaps it was because of the civilian wear, but for the first time? She would be approached and spoken to, once they were sure she wasn't going to bite their heads off. The armor and attitude intimidated some and in the aftermath? Well, completing a dangerous mission was a great leg up on the reputation scale.

Well, that and the person she worked with.

Lucifer. Like Shiki of the Games and Rin Tohsaka, the Damphir had built up a following and a reputation in the Coalition. Along with legends such as Princess Midna or recruits such as Sabrina Spellman, he worked as an Agent, refusing promotions to a higher rank to continue to remain in the field. The world of Fallout Alpha still remembered his legend and to every mission, he applied himself with similar zeal. And yet, no one knew much at least among the lower ranks.

This was Clare's new sparring partner now.

A weary, bleeding man in a locker room who ripped off his locker door and seemed to only be vaguely aware that his wounds needed caring for.

At this point, it appeared that they asked Clare something and finally, they repeated it.

"-Clare? We were just asking, whats it like working with a Coalition Agent? A full fledged one?"

It seemed that the morning plan of sparring was put on hold. As other recruits began to ask questions she couldn't help but be reminded of when Raki had first met her, granted she was in her normal wear and he showed no signs of fear whatsoever and she came off aloof as usual. She decided to humor them and answer their questions in a straightforward manner, but at some point her mind wandered to the boy she had took in on her home world. She wondered how he was holding up in the village she left him in. Before her mind could drift off further, a question was repeated, causing her eyes to move from the wall they were staring at to the other recruits around her, some appearing to be young and others older.

"For me, it feels like working with another comerade...or how humans in my world call us, Claymore. It is rather interesting." she said simply.

"Hey, c'mon. Give her some air."

An amused voice cut through the group as it added pointedly. "Don't you all have classes to attend as well?" The table began to empty, save for one person who slid into the seat next to her. The smell of wafting coffee was strong as Ripley took a sip. A long moment of savoring, she finally spoke.

"So. You're suddenly Misses Popular now. Thoughts?"

"It's very different than what I am used to. They all remind me of a boy that travels with me when they ask me questions. It's amsusing albeit strange. When Claymore are given attention, it's not very possitive." she replied, taking note of the coffee and the smell of it. Strange indeed.

"Well, big multiverse out there. Stands to reason though that when you get down to it? That people will be people. Kindred spirits though their worlds be further apart then Heaven from Hell."

She took a deep sip of her coffee.

"Also, its the first time I heard you mention anyone back home for you. Who is this boy? Little brother?"

"In a way, he could be considered such. He is actually my cook, I let him travel with me just after his village kicked him out. He has been a pleasant companion. Perhaps one day he will become a recruit here-or some variation of him...." Clare replied.

Ripley smiled in warm satisfaction.

"That's nice....You know, you've always been so serious and frankly, its been intimidating. But now? You seem much more....Open? I guess its true what they say."

She began ticking off on her fingers.

"Mages with books, gearheads with grease....And a soldier on the battlefield. We're all most comfortable in our sphere of influence. Still, its nice to have these talks."

Rising up, she smiled and dared to squeeze Clare's shoulder in a friendly manner.

"Just don't work too hard. We all need a break now and then. Ok?"

And off she walked, leaving Clare free to do as she liked at this point.

Clare gave a nod at her words, and after the other woman left she took a moment to think before standing and heading to the canteen. She hadn't eaten in a day or two and knew that she would need to. Once there she got a couple snacks that would last a few days.

Snacks were available for all. Today though at the bar, she'd see Lucifer sitting. A single drink in hand as he turned over something, again and again in the palm of his other hand. Though as he noticed her, he'd slip the item in his pocket and nod.

"Clare. Did you get enough rest?"

There was little in the way of weariness in his features now. His sleep must have done him a world of good as he scanned her features politely.

Seeing Lucifer by thr bar she walked over. Once he asked her the question she would nod.

"Yes, I did. And you?" she asked, eyes glancing to his pocket as she spoke. She looked up to his face and decided not to ask about it, at least for now.

"Not so much."

The idea of lying to her briefly crossed his mind, but when he opened his mouth to do so, instead came something else. Nevertheless, she had seen him at one of his worse points. That she didn't bring it up, he was grateful. He was also thankful she didn't seem to be offended at his lack of indiscretion. The memory of it forced his eyes away back to his drink, a dark red coloration that he sipped. A moment later, he spoke.

"1296 old wineyard. Expensive, but I felt I could splurge once. Would you like a sip?"

Clare nodded and sat beside him at the bar. She saw no reason she couldn't, and maybe if she stayed around fir a bit he'd talk about it? She wasn't much of a talker in some cases but maybe she could just be someone that could listen in case he just needed it.

Wordlessly, he slid his shot glass of wine over to her. If tasted, it had a distinct richness to it, as well as a rolling quality. Lucifer gave a small shrug.

"I'm not much of a drinker, but the wine is a small joke."

He then went back to his silence before he asked.

"Any family Clare? Siblings, lovers?"

Clare, after the first sip, went to take another but paused when family and such was brought up. Calmly she set the glass down on the bar top.

"My family has been dead for many years now. The closest thing to family I have is a boy named Raki, as well as my fellow warriors, or should I say, Claymore...as for lovers, I do not see a need for one nor have I considered such a thing in the past." she responded, her grip on the glass tightening slightly as she spoke of her family before relaxing. She didn't see why she had gotten so emotional, it had happened years ago, in the past. The reason behind their death was destroyed by Teresa...

Teresa. Ah yes, her reason for becoming a Claymore in the first place.

With a sigh, her steely gaze moving to meet his.

He listened with quiet gravity. When he was like this, it was easy to imagine him as a priest. He listened without judgement and with attention, something in her story resonating in him. Finally, he said quietly.

"My world is gone. Everyone I knew and loved.... Gone. I had been away for so long and when I came back.... Nothing."

He downed his shot glass and coughed.

"I've searched for news, but all I have is one lead. An old friend who might know something, currently running with the enemy. I'll find her, get my answers...."

His stare turned flinty.

"And then kill her." Anger was an old friend and it filled him up. To Clare, he looked almost as though he would shatter at the least nudge.

Clare listened, watching him with a steady gaze. She found camaraderie with Lucifer, and she liked that. She found some of the things he told her interesting.

But she also felt slight concern for him, even though she has seen him hold his own.

"Lucifer...I wish you luck on the hardships to come, and you shall always have my sword to help you when in need as a comrade and warrior. Hm, maybe instead if drinking you can let your frustration out in a spar? Unless you are not up for it I see no reason we could postpone it." she said before taking another small sip of the wine before giving the glass back to him.

.....He hadn't heard concern for himself in a while. Not since.... Not since Liz died in action. The wave of self-loathing rose and stuck in his throat. It wasn't fair that he lived and so many others were lost. That every night, he had to put on music to drown out the screams of friends and family. It was a crisis of faith he hadn't suffered since his early years.

And all the more stark that he kept away from people. They admired him, enjoyed his company but always left. Clare was the first to stay.

".... That sounds like a great idea."

"Good." she said as she stood, placing a hand on his shoulder almost similar to how Ripley had done earlier. She felt that a spar would do him good. Not only would he let out any frustrations but maybe he could improve as a warrior as well. From there, she would leave the canteen to see if her usual attire was clean and ready to wear for their sparing match.

He watched her leave and for a moment, was thoughtful. Damphir despite the prolific spread of vampires were rare, or otherwise engaged in other worlds. He'd yet to have met one beyond his teacher. In that aspect, Clare was perhaps the closest he had ever come to it. And he had to admit to himself, she was....Caring, in her own way. He knew What she admitted to him could not have been easy. Uncaring, she was not despite her outward attitude. It was all in what she said, what she moved herself to do. Body language more used to swords then words.

Almost like him.

Unbidden as he watched her walk away came an image, stark and clear. Clare showering in the locker room, her scar prominent and yet not detracting in any way from-

That was a very dangerous line of thought.

And moreover, was borne of his own self-imposed celibacy and grief. Clare was a friend and comrade. He was not about to do something as stupid and degrading to her, as imagine her naked.

.....Even if she was beautiful to the point of Amazonian.

He was going to need this spar and he'd get up and pay his drink, leaving to grab his weapons.

--------------

The same ring they first met. Lucifer clad in his usual clothing, sans the longcoat. In both hands, he'd be wielding the Black Keys of the Burial Agency as he breathed out and slid into a ready pose. Like brandishing war fans, he shook the blades briefly in show as he centered his mind.

But all he could see looking at her face was the shower.

.....Godammit​

 

[Yun Lee]

Part Three

As Clare made her way to the same ring that led to their meeting, she unsheathed her sword as she once again wore her regular clothes, she gave a couple practice swings in the air before taking a simple stance. After a moment or two her silver gaze turned into a curious, cat like gold one. She nodded her head slightly in acknowledgement.

Go.

His hands blurred, six black keys spinning from his hands in the direction of Clare. All frontal, intended to break her focus as he aimed for armored points, just in case. Following in the wake of his weapons, he'd flip up and over, stretching out his leg in a back kick, aimed for the upper part of Clare's back. If successful, it'd hopefully put her off balance as he landed....And waited for her to turn, arms flying in a kata rapidly as he prepared himself.

Kung Fu.

Though he favored the misdirection given from ninjitsu and especially where his hunting was concerned, kung fu had a very forward approach. More especially in the Tiger Style which put emphasis on power and let him take advantage of his strength.

Between that and the Black Keys, it gave him yet another fighting style in which to mix things up, should he get into a real fight.

Clare remained calm as the keys and kick did their trick. As she righted herself and turned she lifted her left arm, palm outward to press into his stomach and push him back a bit with a small bit of force, if successful she would charge forward and swing her sword horizontally.

Her expression remained unchanged but she grew very interested as well as slightly amused by how his style always changes in some form but it didn't bother her one bit.

When it came down to it, Lucifer had several go-to approaches for fights. Each one being a staple and holdover from his life experiences. Growing up on a ranch in Texas led him to firearms and his favored type in particular, the .50 Smith and Wesson revolver. A simplified design with a really, big bang it was a weapon unaffected by magical fields. It would not jam, it would not misfire and was more reliable then most modern weapons. To say nothing of easy to conceal. Since his dismal display in Fallout Alpha insofar as firearms were concerned, since then he made it a point to refine his marksmanship till he could finally come back to his normal levels.

Then there was the Black Keys and Ninjitsu.

In the Burial Agency, very few mastered them to an extent. They were distraction weapons at best, unless you knew what you were doing. But like most things he applied himself to, the Black Keys soon enough became his to retain. The ninjitsu, aiding in his misdirection and stealth tactics in the field.

Kenjutsu soon followed in Japan, during the era he worked alongside the Isayama clan in a homestay. It was....Peaceful and it soon became the main foundation of his fighting style. But times changed and as he lived, he found refuge in the mind-numbing power of a workout and a new martial art. Now? In a fight, he could switch up to three styles to put an opponent off their game as well as being strong enough in any one to finish the fight if needed.

He really needed a better hobby.

Forced back, he noted the sword coming at him.

And with an almighty clap, his hands would slap and grip to perform bare-blade blocking. He noted clinically that she was very strong.

But so was he when he fed. Still, he cut it pretty close as he looked down at how close it had come to him before he spoke tiredly.

"That was stupid of me."

Letting go, he flipped again and landed directly on the blade, pushing it down to the ground before running up it right for Clare, fist swinging up....And stopping short of her nose. It surprised him, that was for sure and in that brief moment of shock, he'd be vulnerable.

Clare hadn't said a word, but watched Lucifer's movements closely. She tilted her head slightly as he spoke before he flipped onto her blade. She merely blinked when his fist stopped short of her face before calmly grabbing his wrist in the split second he paused to flip him over her shoulder, though she may have held back on some of her strength as she did this so she wouldn't hurt him in anyway, or dislocate something.

If successful she would quickly follow up with bringing her blade down to stop inches from his neck. There wasn't much power behind this swing unlike earlier, and if it wasn't successful she would take a moment to jump back and put some space between them for a moment. Whether he wanted to continue or not was up to him either way, since she noticed that seemed tired from the tone of voice he had. She had no plans of pushing him past his possible limit.

He laid on his back, the impact shocking but nothing he hadn't felt before. He was rewinding back, to that moment. It would have been just a hit, and then they'd continue....Instead, when the time came and his fist sailed...Honestly?

He couldn't do it.

She could take it, it was expected....But he still couldn't do it. He couldn't hit her.

And he knew full well why too. Swordswoman, huntress....Since last night, he'd began to remember. Memories he'd long since locked away and buried deep, lest he'd go mad.

Memories of....Her.

Purple eyes light with mischief shone in his mind, before becoming tear filled as they turned to leave him to his death. He did not need this now and he rose up, not looking at her as he said quietly.

"Your victory. If....if you'll excuse me."

And walking off, he left his coat behind in his haste. Staggering like a man drunk before he was gone. A voice chuckled by Clare at that point.

"An interesting, if troubled man. Miss Clare, allow me to introduce myself."

He was a man, old and bent over but with keen intelligence in yellow eyes as he smiled.

"I am Xeanhort. Master of the Torch. May we talk?"

Clare had put her sword away when Lucifer spoke and would have asked what was wrong but he had gotten up and left before she could say anything. When someone else spoke up, the warrior turned to address this person.

Her eyes returning to normal, Clare would give Xeanhort a nod.

"Yes, we may." she answered.

Leading her out to the Wall, Xeanhort breathed in deep the fresh, jungle air. Humid and hot as the sounds of animals cried out. Behind them, the Torch continued on its daily activities and he seemed content to let things be silent...Until a point where he spoke.

"How long have you been a recruit with us, Clare? May I call you Clare?"

"Less than a month sir. And yes, you may." she replied simply. She wondered what he had wanted to talk about, and figured that he'd get to the point sooner or later so she waited patiently, silver staring directly at gold, calm and unwavering.

"Less then a month....And with an exemplary record which enabled you for recruitment and shortly, a successful mission that could have gone much more wrong. I see potential in you Miss Clare. Enough to see you might go far.... It is with this in mind, that I ask you this question. Bear with an old man, I assure you this all has a purpose. You've met and worked with Lucifer...Indeed, you two seem to be closer then most. What do you make of him? Be honest, there is only us here."

Clare nodded once or twice wondering where this would lead, then when Lucifer was brought up she gave a thoughtful look.

"Lucifer is like a fellow Claymore and firend to me. He is a warrior and comrade that I am honoured to fight beside. Though...I am a bit concerned for him..." she trailed off before giving the slightest tilt of her head.

"Is that answer sufficient, sir?" she asked, growing curious for what was to be said next by the man.

".....Yes. It proves two things. One, that there is a rapport between you. And second, that you're not afraid to speak your mind."

He turned to face her.

"I will be blunt, Lucifer is one of our best agents...But he over-works. He barely rests and he's driven to do as much as he can. He's one of two survivors of a dead world and the other is a member of a demonic agency we're still tracking. He's no good if he breaks and if you can sense it? Then others will too...And agents who make mistakes in the field, often do them but once. Its unforgiving work. Due to your actions and cool head under fire...I'd like to assign you as his partner. You'll be an agent in training, on the fast track to promotion. And in return, you keep an eye on him for me."

"I would gladly watch over him for you sir." Clare replied after a short moment of contemplating Xeanhort's words. She saw this as a way to not only pay Lucifer back for being there for her during her first mission but to help him from here on out.

He nodded with approval and considered.

"I'll arrange for quarters to be re-shuffled. Unless you're satisfied with house arrangements as they stand? As I said, this will assist you better in assessing his mental state, but I leave the choice to you."

"Although I do like the current arrangements, I wouldn't mind the new arrangements either, sir." she said honestly. What point would there be in hiding the truth? Even though most of the other recruits didn't talk to her until recently she didn't mind either way. They didn't get in her way and she didn't get in theirs and no problems had rose between her and any of the others. That was good. And even though she found answering their questions earlier amusing Lucifer's state of health was more important.

He seemed surprised at her answer. The first visible flash of it as he looked into her eyes. Whatever he saw? It seemed to satisfy him as he nodded and smirked, turning to go.

"I'll make all the arrangements. The paper work will be ready and at this point? All I can say....Is good luck. Either it will work out....Or it won't. Which is all we can ask for either way."

And so he left.

A beep on her scroll later detailed her new living arrangements and gave Lucifer's location via his scroll. Currently at the lake out in the jungle.

Does she go to see him...Or go to move her things?

Clare nodded as she watched him go, and once she looked to her scroll she thought of her next course of action. She was sure that he had wanted to be alone for some time, but she was worried with how he was faring. So, after she decided that what little things she had could be moved later, she headed to Lucifer's location.

What was faith?

Was faith blind obedience in something you didn't understand? Was it a word, meant to act as a salve for when the bad times came around? 'Have faith, things will turn out for the better?' No, it was not. Faith was a belief in things you knew to be true. It was a tried and tested belief system that things could get better, along principles and actions combined.

Lucifer couldn't remember the last time he had faith.

Or the last time he felt any measure of peace because of it.

Xeanhort was correct. Lucifer was cracking under the strain. His old support system and world was gone, his friends and family lost. What purpose he found in life was in his work and well....It was not exactly a job for the faint of heart. To those with iron, it grated on their souls. Bit by bit, blood by blood....And considering the realm of study Lucifer was in, that more then most agents. He was a Hunter before....That hadn't changed on a multiversal level.

And by the lake, his boots removed and placed to the side? Lucifer would be going through a kata....Breathing out slowly, before he noticed Clare approaching. He seemed to have outwardly recovered, turning to her as he bowed politely.

"Clare. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I came to see how you were." she said. She was glad that he seemed better to some degree. She took a look at her surroundings before looking back to him.

Taking a moment to look at the lake she would step forward and sit on the ground beside his boots.

There was silence. She wasn't sure how he would take to the news he would get from her, and either way he reacted could define how he might feel. Yet she felt like she should let him know now rather than later.

"I also came to tell you that we shall be partners from now on."

In her usual blunt and simple way of saying things, she said what she needed and looking away from the body of water, she'd return her gaze to Lucifer.

~End~​